Better Than Him (PrussiaXAustriaXPrussia)
by PrussiaXAustria1000
Summary: Having one of Prussia is far more than Austria can deal with. But when another ex-country pops up? He looks exactly like Gilbert; he IS Gilbert; but somehow the two of them are different in almost all ways... except in their lustful desire for Roderich. Based on a doujinshi called "Bunretsu Bousou Rhapsodie". Lemon.


"O-Oh, goodness gracious!" Roderich gasped; he'd snagged his foot on a piece of clothing, and he let out of a cry of surprise as he nearly fell over the pile of laundry he'd left behind him on the floor. "D-Damn it!"

_Such language… I ought to watch my mouth._ This he thought tediously to himself as he grunted, turning back to bend over and pick up the article of clothing that had caused him such trouble. _Of course. A pair of Germany's boxers. I almost regret that I ever told him to patch up his underwear._

But he mustn't be wasteful, he reminded himself before picking up the large bag that he'd filled with the undesirable contents of his drawers… mainly underwear that had been worn for too many centuries to be conserved any longer.

He gave a dull sigh as he tried to decide where to clean next—Prussia or Germany's room? Hm. Prussia's room was more likely to be a mess than his little brother's, so with a grudging sigh, he made a quick choice to move on to Germany's room. Yes, it ought to be easier to take on that task first—he could tackle Prussia's room last, and hopefully he we would finish by nightfall.

Austria had begun another cleaning spree. It was the fifth one that month, and one too many for Prussia and for even Germany. The strict, busy-bodied blonde had chided him for doing so much work on his own and would have offered to help, except that his paperwork had piled to another high, leaving him with too little time on his own hands to be able to help anyone else.

As for Prussia, however, he was another story: a nuisance with absolutely _too much_time and too little to do. He had proved stubborn enough when Austria had mustered up the nerve to ask him for assistance, claiming that he, Antonio, and Francis were going out drinking that night.

"He really does drink too much," mumbled Roderich, the bag nearly slipping from his grasp. He struggled to maneuver it into an easier position to hold and grew even more frustrated as his arms began to grow heavy under the weight of the bag. "Damn him… why can't he ever lend a hand around here?"

Prussia. Gilbert Beilschmidt. That _stupid_, _arrogant_, cruel-minded man, with his smug smirk, his mischievous ruby eyes, his always unruly pure-white hair, and that awful, obnoxious laugh that made him want to pound his head against a wall! All the things he hated in a person—why Germany hadn't kicked him out yet, Roderich didn't know.

"All he ever wants to do is have fun, that moron! He doesn't care for anyone at all!" Roderich tried to hold back a growl of disapproval, but it slipped out from his lips before he could stop it. It was no use—his anger was rising too quickly for his own health. "Damn him! That Prussia! He's always interfering with my business, showing up when I have no use for him, and when I actually need a hand around here, he claims he's off to another party or something! How can anyone deal with such a horrible, nasty, alcohol-loving moron!"

His face began to flush a dark red from the new high that his temper was reaching—the only one who could ever make him so _angry_ and _frustrated_ was that idiotic Prussian. Always standing in his way, blocking him when he needed something, always causing him trouble. He was an absolute—

"D-Damn it!" He let out a gasp—the bag had slipped from his hands. Roderich tried to grab it, to catch it before it fell to the floor, but he had missed, only nearly caught it in his arms…

And then suddenly a hand had snatched his own arm, another reaching out to scoop the bag of things out of the air and push it up to press it against his chest, back into his arms. He stood, trying to catch his breath, and pushed his glasses, turning around to thank Germany for the help.

"Th-Thank you…" He froze at the sight—no. Surely not… "Prussia?"

This was something unheard of. The Prussian, actually dressed nicely in a dress shirt and a decent pair of black jeans that _hadn't been ripped and torn_, and… what was that? He had combed his hair? And here he was, helping Roderich to… to…

"Prussia? Erm…" He blinked for a moment, trying to focus on the matter at hand, trying to form the correct words that wouldn't seem to come. "… I'm couldn't possibly be imagining this, could I?"

The white-haired beauty gave him a slightly disconcerted look before answering strictly: "What? Of course not. What on earth would cause you to think that?" He gave the heavy bag a quick glance before adding, "You're always so weak. Dropping a bag like this. I'd think you could try to be a little less powerless."

"Nothing at all." Roderich turned away, pushing his glasses further up his nose once more, sighing in exasperation as he said coldly: "I'm ever so sorry for being so weak and powerless. Now, can you can release me immediately, if you'd please?"

Gilbert gave a grim scoff—wait. What was this? He hadn't crack an obnoxious joke or once commented on how "unawesome" Roderich was. He was… handling the situation seriously? This couldn't possibly be right. Roderich gave him an almost confused gaze as he watched the Prussian speak: "Don't say that kind of thing. I'm just saying: you can depend on me when you do this kind of stuff. What were you thinking in that head of yours when you thought you could handle cleaning the house all on your own?"

Roderich, nearly too numb with either horror or shock to speak, managed to stutter, "W-Well… i-it's not that you ever help me when I do this…?"

"Now. Look at you. Stammering and standing there so tersely. Hand that bag over—I'll help you clean. You're moving on to Germany's room next, right? Let me get out the vacuum, and we'll—!"

"_Hey!_" A loud shout echoed through the kitchen room as the door was slammed open, sending Roderich into a frenzied stream of mild curses. The albino's eyes narrowed as a figure emerged through the door. "Little master! I can see you're looking as unawesome as eve—?!"

Prussia froze in the doorway, looking halfway between confused and overjoyed at completely his morning routine of insulting Austria. "… As unawesome as ever…?" he finished, his crimson eyes fixed on the white-haired figure before him.

Roderich turned, his large amethyst eyes even wider than usual and his hair wild and unruly, Mariazell standing as he stared from one Gilbert to the next, his mouth agape in shock as he gave a cry of:

"_What the hell is going on here?!_"

* * *

"Wh-What?" Germany looked from albino to albino, from one older brother to the other. His eyes were wide with surprise, and there was a tremble in his staunch figure as he raised a finger to point to the two of them, his sapphire eyes turned to Austria, who frowned back with a similar expression. "Th-There are two of Big Brother?!"

"I can't quite explain it myself," mumbled Roderich, turning to stare at the two men that were glaring each other down. "But… I think…"

"I-I think I know what happened here. Y-You tried to clone yourself, didn't you, Gilbert!" Ludwig had walked up to both forms of his older brother, jabbing each in the chest disapprovingly with a scowl. "You tried to… to _clone_ yourself, didn't you!?"

It was the first time Roderich had seen him so flustered and bordering on the edge of speechless. He gave a grumble of frustration as he reached up to brush a thick strand of hair out of his paled face. "… This is so strange…" He found himself muttering this to himself.

"Hm? Strange?" He felt a hand suddenly rest on his shoulder—he gave a shout of surprise and stumbled backwards into the kitchen counter. A dull pain ran through his side as he gave out a yelp. Since when did Prussia—the more dignified one—get so close to him?! "What do you mean? Is there something wrong?"

Gilbert was looking down on him, looking frighteningly tall as he gazed down concernedly. One hand rested on his shoulder, and moments later another rested on his waist. "You can tell me whatever you have on your mind. Like I said—I'll help whenever I can. All right, Rod?"

Roderich's eyes widened; since when did Gilbert know him as anything but "Austria"? God damn it, this was making so little sense! "Prussia, let go of me. You're too…" He grew even more alarmed as the another pair of hands came to rest on him. "Pru-Prussia! Wh-Whichever one of you is… _ach_, I don't even know!"

"Hey, lay off." The other Gilbert was glaring at the newcomer now, his eyes flaring with an angry fire that clearly declared: _leave my Austria alone._ He wouldn't admit it—no, he'd rather die before he did so—but he was possessive of the brunette. He wanted to be the only one allowed to harass Roderich, him and no one else. And to see someone with _his face_ with his hands on his Osterreich… No. Just no. "Leave Austria alone. He's mine, okay? Go away."

"Yours?" Roderich tried to step out of both the men's grip, only resulting in them tightening their hold on him. "Sin—Since when was I yours, Prussia?!"

"Since today."  
"You're way too cocky. Hasn't anyone ever taught you to be dignified?"  
"No, and I don't intend to ever be. I'm way too awesome to act prissy. So bug off!"  
"No wonder Roderich would never like you! You're an unsophisticated brat."  
"Wh-What?! You dare call the awesome me unsophisticated! I can do anything I put my mind to!"  
"You're sure about that?"  
"Yeah! Try me! Anything! You're going to be eating your words, you dick!"

Germany stepped forward, his eyes narrowed with concern as he ordered, "All right, break it up! It's not a fight over Austria, okay?! We're going to get this matter sorted out as soon as well can, so shut up!" When both Gilberts turned to West to argue, he snapped, "No! No buts or ifs about it! If I hear a word from either of you, I'll have you both in court for illegal cloning!" With that, he turned and started to stride out of the room. He paused briefly as he reached the exit, adding, "And be helpful while you're at it!" before leaving and slamming the door behind him.

* * *

"Damn it… that other me sure is cocky… He's not really like me at all!" Gilbert leaned back against the couch, sighing in exasperation as he gulped down another sip of beer. "Ah… good beer," he murmured to himself, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand before finding it fit to resume his rant. "That bloody idiot! That's just stupid. Trying to sneak up on Specs and feelin' up on him."

He felt a shiver run down his back as he pictured that scene from earlier, still aware of how frighteningly close the other had gotten to Roderich. Why it bothered him, he couldn't imagine, but it did. What privilege did _this_ Prussia have that _he_ didn't? Was he really allowed to get so close to Austria?

"Damn it. Damn this whole thing. Damn them all to hell." With that, he tipped he head back and gulped down the rest of the half-bottle of liquour that there was left. "I'm perfectly happy alone. It's just another awesome day, being with my awesome self. Who cares about the princess and the other me? I can handle myself…"

_I'm the original. It's not like he has any more rights than I do. Come to think of it, when did he get here in the first place? Maybe this is all a dream? Maybe… nah. I'm overthinking this. I just need to drink… more beer. Yeah, that's the answer. Beer's definitely the answer to everything._

Gilbert stood, brushing himself off with a grumble of disapproval, and headed off towards the fridge. He trudged down the hallways, searching for the kitchen, and just as he passed Austria's living room—wait, what was that? He backtracked, his eyes widening as he stared—his other self? Sitting on the couch right next to Austria, much too close than he would have liked? He crouched down beside the door to the living room, staring into the gap, wondering just what was the meaning of this.

* * *

"You're getting much too close for comfort." Roderich turned towards the albino, his eyes flashing with frustration as he tried to focus on his novel—but as soon as Gilbert's arm had slung itself over his shoulder, he'd felt rather… invaded. "Will you please move away a bit?"

"Why?" Crimson eyes trailed back to gaze directly back at him, almost teasingly, as if Roderich's words held no weight whatsoever. "Why should I? Am I a bother to you, Roddy?"

Roderich stiffened momentarily; then he scoffed skeptically. "Don't call me that."

"Is something wrong with it?" Gilbert's eyes swept over him, observing his body, scanning across the pale, porcelain flesh that presented itself appealingly before him. "Roddy." He paused, inhaling slightly through his nose, then repeated the name almost fondly: "Roddy. I like it."

"Well, I don't." Roderich's eyes narrowed a bit in concern, frowning unhappily as he said, "Please, do refrain yourself."

"Nah. I like that nickname. _Roddy_," he repeated, saying the name with some affection, smirking down at the Austrian. He liked it, he really did—he liked how Roderich's lip twitched when he said it, how his eyebrow lifted just a few millimeters, twisting his beautiful face into the most adorable of expressions. "I think it's cute for you."

Roderich's eyes flashed, just for a moment. He flushed a dark red, stuttering: "N-No! Don't say such… such things! I won't hear any more of it."

"Aw, shut up, Roddy." He felt those calloused fingers rub at his shoulder, then tap their way down his arm… around his waist—wait, since when did Prussia have such a tight hold on him? He made an attempt to move away, but Gilbert's grip on tightened, not giving the Austrian any room to move. "I know you want me to say it. You want to hear it, don't you? You want me to say it, over and over again… Admit it, Roddy."

Roderich tensed—best to play on the side of caution. He set down his novel on the couch beside him, picking out his words carefully. Who knows what Prussia might pull off next. "Please, release me, Prussia."

"Say that I'm awesome." That other arms was linking with the other, pulling Austria closer to him, that smirk still full on his pale face. The way those ruby eyes sparkled with malice—somehow it suddenly seemed alluring to the brunette. Prussia must be pulling one of his jokes again.

"Why? What's the point to it? It's ridiculous, Prussia. Now let me go."

"… _Nein_." Gilbert found himself moving closer to Austria—his plan was going perfectly, and that pleased him greatly. Now, if only that damned cute Austrian would _stop moving_ and let him do what he wanted… "I'm not done with you yet, Roderich."

_Oh, Gott… He smells good._ Roderich's mind instantly began wandering as Gilbert pulled him closer, their chests against each other, the scent of the other wafting over him warmly. _Like… like strawberries. Is it his shampoo? W-Wait… this can't… Prussia… Which one is it? Is it the real one? Would Prussia-_Prussia_—actually ask like this? Would he be so soft, so gentle, so…_

Their lips touched. Roderich's eyes widened behind his spectacles, which were slipping down his nose—he wanted to push them back up, and tried to move his hand to do so, but his wrist was snatched by Gilbert. The albino pushed his arm, one hand on Roderich's wrist, the other around his waist. He let out a small, heated breath as he pushed more against Roderich's lips, feeling the wetness, the warmth…

Roderich tried struggling, but for an ex-country, Gilbert's strength was inhuman. He had him pinned down against the couch, and with a slight push and a bit of force, Roderich had been laid down on his back against the soft cushions, his eyes screwed shut in confusion and a haze of emotions, his breath heavy.

"Gi-Gilbert… please… st-stop this…" He managed the words between hot kisses and wet lips, somehow, he didn't know how he'd been able to even speak. "I-It's not… g-gentlemanly…"

The hard corner of the novel was pushing into his back, surely leaving a small dent, and he could feel something poking at him below his waist… he flushed and nearly choked on his own breath when he realized it was Gilbert's—

"You know what, Roddy?" Gilbert's hands reached up to cup Roderich's face, and he mumbled against those soft lips: "I don't give a fuck right now. All I want… i-is… yo—!"

"What the hell! RODERICH!" A door slammed open, and Roderich did a double take, nearly shoving Gilbert off of him, and stared up to see… Gilbert. Yes, the more immature of them was storming into the room, grabbing the one that had just been on top of him seconds ago by the collar, shaking him furiously. "What makes you-_you!_—think that you can touch the young master like that?!"

"Calm down, you idiot." The one in the collared shirt gave a shrug, pulling the other's hands off of him and saying: "I was only giving him a peck on the lips."

"Fuck that! 'A peck on the lips'! You were practically eating his face!"  
"It's not as if you cared about that. You don't even like the young master, right?"  
"A-Are you kidding me?! Th-that still doesn't give you the excuse to kiss him!"  
"Excuse me? If you don't like him, then I don't see why I can't claim him for my own."  
"Shut up, idiot! I-I won't let you have him! He's not yours to take! You get that?! You get that?!"

There was a pause. And then the other Gilbert gave a small smirk. "Oh? Jealous, are you?"

Gilbert could have strangled him right there on the spot, and Roderich was amazed to see that he had such self-restrain. That was unusual to see from Gilbert. "Shut up," he growled. "But that's right—he's mine, and I'm not letting your unawesome self get anywhere near him."

Roderich might have thrown himself out the window right there and then—he did _not_belong to Gilbert! Since when had such a notion created itself in the albino's head? An absurd idea, absurd! And what did Gilbert mean by it, anyways? Belong? He was no object—he was a nation, a bloody nation! He would've have gotten up to search for a window to hurl himself from if the other Gilbert had not laid a strong hand on his shoulder, pushing him down.

"Calm down, Gilbert. I never said I wouldn't share him."

"Sh-Share?!" Roderich turned to him, his mouth open in shock—he wanted to say something, anything in protest, but he could only stare at this new Gilbert in horror. "Wh-What do you mean by-?!"

"Share?" Gilbert scoffed, crossing his arms with a scowl. "You think you're doing me an awesome favour? You're fucking kidding me."

"No, not at all. Look at him—all ready to be taken." Those fingers swept across his chest now, teasing and tapping at his sensitive skin. Roderich tried to scoot away from where he sat on the couch, but he was grabbed roughly by the shoulders as the other Gilbert pushed him to one side, seating himself beside him and pulling the Austrian onto his lap. "Don't you want to make it a memorable moment? Imagine it—two of us, inside him. Making him scream."

Roderich's face couldn't have gone any redder at these words. "P-Please, stop it! I-I won't hear of such vulgar ideas!" However, both Gilberts ignored him as the other continued: "Wouldn't that be… awesome?"

"You know what?" Gilbert let his arms drop to the side, his scowl fading away slightly. "I usually don't like sharing my spoils with anyone." And then Roderich felt the other push him up off of the couch, and he was suddenly standing, uncomfortably close to each of the two men, one behind him and the other in front of him. He found himself staring up into Gilbert's crimson eyes; the sight was terrifying. He tried to look away, but Gilbert moved to cup his chin, forcing him to gaze into those malicious ruby eyes. "But… I think this will be… awesomely _fun_."

Before Austria could protest, then they were suddenly against him, Gilbert grinding his hips against him, pulling his face forwards to crash his lips forcefully against the brunette's; the other behind him ground himself against Roderich, leaning forward to lick his ear and nip at his neck, one of those sinful hands groping at his arse.

"N-No… No…" It frightened him how small and helpless he sounded, even to himself. He wanted it to stop. There was no doubt about it—Roderich didn't want this. But… somehow… no matter what he tried to think, he couldn't help but feel heated, aroused by this… this sinfulness.

He had no time to think—the Gilbert behind him had stop assaulting his neck and moved down to pull away his breeches, leaving them pooled around his ankles. He flushed shamefully as Gilbert looked down at his hard erection, a smile dancing against that damned sexy face of his, and he reached down to cup it.

Roderich's hips bucked forward of their own accord—he gasped as he felt a tinge of pleasure rush up through his stomach, his body as he bucked himself into Gilbert's hand. "A-Aah… Gi-Gil…! Pl-Please, d-don't…"

"Hm? You want us to stop?" The other Gilbert's hand slipped through the gap between his leg and his boxers to squeeze his arse, smirking. "I'm afraid that's not possible, Roddy."

Gilbert, the one standing before him, moved forward, pushing himself against the flushed, confused brunette, mumbling into his ear heatedly, "I'm not stopping. Not now. Not until I hear you scream our name. Roderich…"

_We're not done with you yet._


End file.
